


When a Plan Works Out

by Isis



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/F, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Jealousy, OT3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-07-07 18:16:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15913647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isis/pseuds/Isis
Summary: Battling a desire demon always made Hawke a little horny. Merrill was sweet, and she was pretty, and she wasright there.





	When a Plan Works Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lesbepsian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbepsian/gifts).



> Thanks to ChocoChipBiscuit for beta reading!

Hawke felt as though they’d been battling for hours, but in truth it had been only twenty minutes by the time the desire demon finally closed its arms across its body, lifted into the air, and then slumped lifelessly down to the floor of the room in Viscount’s Keep where they’d found Tarohne’s book. She looked over her shoulder; Fenris was finishing off the last of the shades, while Varric was checking the remains of the ones they’d dispatched already. 

Beside her, Merrill stretched, and Hawke found her eyes drawn to her slender body – those holes in her robes were ridiculous, she thought, not for the first time. It would be so easy to hook her fingers into those holes and rip the whole thing off, and wouldn’t it be lovely to see that pale skin exposed all the way down to her – 

“We done here, Hawke?” called Varric, breaking her train of thought. “Because Bianca here could use a rub-down and a little attention.”

 _So could I_ , Hawke thought. But she only nodded and waved a hand at the piles of ash on the floor and the scorch marks on the walls. “I love it when a plan works out.”

“But we didn’t have a plan,” said Merrill, frowning. “We just attacked. I mean, it was good that we attacked, because they died and we didn’t, so don’t think I’m complaining about it!”

“I don’t think you’re complaining,” Hawke reassured her. By now she was used to Merrill’s lack of confidence when it came to anything interpersonal. In a way it countered her ruthlessness in battle, made her seem more human. Except she was an elf, so would it be more _elven_? She glanced at the other elf in the room, who was leaning against the wall doing his broody elf thing. Definitely not more elven. More balanced, anyway. More...attractive.

And there were those thoughts again. Battling a desire demon always made her a little horny. Getting up close and personal with those things was a risk, because they tried to influence your mind, make you forget what you were doing and give in to their sweetly purring suggestions. But if she was going to stick them with her daggers, there was no other way. She had to get up close and personal. And so now she was horny. 

And Merrill was sweet, and she was pretty, and she was _right there_.

“So, Merrill,” she said brightly. “Let me take you out for a drink. We can celebrate our victory.”

To her surprise, Merrill blushed, that lovely pale skin going pink at her cheeks. It made her tattoos stand out even more strongly. “That’s kind of you to offer! But – I’ve got a date.”

“Well, it’s about time, Daisy,” said Varric, grinning widely. “I was wondering when you two would stop beating around the bush. So to speak.” 

“Wait,” said Hawke. “What am I missing?”

“Me, I guess,” said Merrill, and giggled. “No, seriously, I have to run, I’m probably already late.” She rushed out the door, calling out apologies over her shoulder.

Hawke turned to Varric. “Will _you_ tell me what’s going on?”

He shouldered Bianca and shook his head. “If you don’t know already, it’s not my business to tell you.” 

“What, Varric not telling a story when he’s got the chance? I’m astonished.”

“Are you ready to go yet? I need to get you back for fleecing me last game,” said Fenris, who had moved to the door and was tapping his foot impatiently.

“You can try,” said Varric cheerfully. “See you around, Hawke.”

“See you,” she said, waving to him and Fenris. She picked up the loot they’d gotten from the shades and the desire demon and followed, but by the time she’d exited onto the main promenade they’d already disappeared, and she felt obscurely put out by that. Maybe she should stop by the barracks and visit Aveline? No, that wouldn’t scratch the itch she felt; Aveline was just a friend, and anyway, she and Donnic were all goofy-eyed over each other these days. 

Slowly she went out onto the square, and her feet took her back toward her home. She stowed the loot and cleaned up; demons might not spatter blood all over the place, but she still always felt dirty after a fight. The warm water made her feel better, but it didn’t get rid of the fizzing just under her skin, the urge to wrap her arms around someone and get lost in pure animal sensation.

Drying her face, she considered. She could go to the Blooming Rose, she supposed. But it wasn’t what she wanted. It was more fun to be with a friend, someone you cared for and who wanted to touch you because they liked you, not because you’d paid them. And it was more fun to elicit those soft moans from a lover when you knew they were genuine. 

She smiled to herself. The last time she’d elicited moans they weren’t soft at all. They were loud and raucous and delightful, even though she was a little embarrassed that Bodahn and Sandal might have overheard. Isabela was not shy about responding to what she liked, and she liked a lot of things. 

The smile slipped off her face. Isabela liked a lot of things. Hawke had thought _she_ was one of those things right up until Isabela had pulled her clothes back on and told Hawke she’d only wanted a little fun. She had forced a laugh and said that of course it was just for fun, no feelings involved, but it had been a lie, and she had felt its weight in her chest when Isabela breezily waved good-bye as she headed back to Lowtown. 

That had been nearly three weeks ago, and she hadn’t seen Isabela since. She’d rationalized not bringing her along on missions in so many ways: she needed Fenris’ muscle, or Aveline’s clout, or Varric’s aim. But mostly it was just the horrible conviction that she’d screwed up. Isabela hadn’t tried to see her in the past three weeks, either. Maybe Isabela hadn’t really wanted her to agree that there were no feelings involved. Maybe she had been waiting for her to admit to feelings first, before she put herself at risk by admitting her own. That was the kind of person Isabela was.

And that was what she needed to do to fix it, she decided, pulling her clothes back on. She’d go down to the Hanged Man and tell Isabela that damn it, yes, there were feelings involved. She cared about Isabela. That wasn’t wrong, was it? She liked Isabela’s breasts, and her dark, warm skin, and the way she gasped when Hawke slid her tongue down that skin; but she also liked Isabela, who she was, what she was. It was time to let her know that.

* * *

Hawke pushed her way through the crowd. The Hanged Man was always busy, even at midday, and now that it was just past nightfall it was full to bursting. She spotted Fenris and Varric playing cards at a table against the far wall, and waved. Varric frowned and stood up, but she shook her head and waved her hand again, this time to indicate he should sit down and finish his game. She had something else on her mind.

She shouldered her way past a knot of off-duty city guardsmen and headed for the bar, where Isabela usually held court. And there she was, on her usual barstool; she was turned to the side so that Hawke could only see her back, but Isabela was unmistakable from any perspective. Her head was tilted slightly, her dark hair tumbling from her kerchief across her shoulders, and she had a drink in her left hand.

Hawke felt something inside herself relax, just a bit. She smiled and began to stride toward the bar. And then Isabela put her drink down on the bar and swiveled the barstool around in the other direction, and Hawke could see that she wasn’t alone.

Merrill was on her lap.

Merrill was on her lap, and her eyes were closed, and her hands were clasped around the back of Isabela’s neck, and she was kissing Isabela. And Isabela was kissing her, too. Her hands ranged along Merrill’s sides, slyly dipping into those ridiculous holes in her robes, and that was _Merrill and Isabela_ , and suddenly Hawke couldn’t take it any more and had to turn away.

Blindly she pushed her way back through the press of bodies. She was heading for the door when strong arms caught her. “I tried to stop you, Hawke,” murmured Varric as he guided her to a seat at his table. 

“You didn’t do _anything_! You should have told me back at the Keep.”

“Wasn’t mine to tell,” he said, dropping back into his own chair. “That’s between you and the Rivaini.”

She gritted her teeth. “Apparently there is nothing between me and the Rivaini.” _Other than Merrill_.

Fenris frowned. “She told me you’d had quite a night together.”

“She said _that_?”

“Sounds like the sort of thing she’d say,” said Varric. “I’d seen you two flirting – not the kind of thing anyone could miss. But then, nothing.” He shrugged. “Figured you’d broken up, though I wasn’t sure who was the break-er and who the break-ee.”

Hawke slumped forward and put her head in her hands. “I guess I was the breaker. But it wasn’t on purpose! I didn’t realize I was breaking up with her.”

“So this afternoon, you just tripped and...accidentally flirted with Merrill?” said Fenris, eyes narrowed.

“Not the kind of thing anyone could miss,” Varric commented.

“I didn’t think we were together! I just didn’t think we’d broken up! Ugh, that sounds stupid, doesn’t it.” The silence from the others at the table told her that yep, it sounded stupid. “It’s just that she’d said she only wanted to have a little fun, and I took her at her word.” Great, _that_ sounded whiny. She soldiered on: “And yes, I was flirting with Merrill, why not? I like Merrill, and I thought Isabela was done with me. Which I guess she is, now.” And that sounded defensive. Maybe she should just shut up. 

“Maybe,” suggested Isabela from behind her right shoulder, “you should just shut up.”

“I thought she was being rather sweet,” said Merrill. She put her hand on Hawke’s left shoulder.

“Oh, she _is_ sweet, Kitten,” said Isabela. “Say, I’ve got an excellent idea. Let’s take her back to my room and you can find out just _how_ sweet.”

“Lovely! Come on, Hawke, it’ll be such fun.” Merrill tugged at Hawke’s arm, forcing her to sit up and open her eyes. She discovered she was looking across the table at Fenris. He was smirking.

“Fun,” she muttered.

“I like fun,” said Isabela. “Don’t you?”

She turned her head and looked at Isabela. Those dark eyes were twinkling, and her smile was contagious. “I like fun,” she said slowly. “But what if I want something more?”

“Let’s start with fun, and see what happens,” said Isabela. Her words were light, but her face was serious, and her eyes were fixed firmly on Hawke’s. She turned to Merrill. “What do you think?”

“Ooh, nobody’s ever asked me what I think! I think you’re both wonderful, and Isabela’s taught me all sorts of interesting things, and I think it would be amazing if we could all just –”

“Get a room,” Fenris interrupted.

“It just so happens that I’ve got one,” said Isabela. “Come on, my pretties, let’s go.”

Hawke let Isabela and Merrill chivvy her up out of the chair. Merrill grabbed her left hand, and Isabela slipped her arm around Hawke’s waist from the right, and by the time they reached the stairs, giggling and whispering, she felt as though she’d never been happier. And they still all had their clothes on – imagine what would happen when they took them off!

Varric grinned as he watched them go. “I love it when a plan works out.” Then he turned to Fenris and began dealing a new round.


End file.
